


did we crash too hard? (that's the risk we take)

by symphony7inAmajor



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, First Kiss, Fist Fights, Getting Together, Homophobia, Love Confessions, M/M, Protectiveness, does real life count as "canon", much to ponder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 08:21:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21472942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/symphony7inAmajor/pseuds/symphony7inAmajor
Summary: Nobody is going to get away with hurting Nikolaj. Patrik has to teach them a lesson.(he's never dropped the gloves before, but he's not going to let something like "inexperience" stop him now.)
Relationships: Nikolaj Ehlers/Patrik Laine
Comments: 11
Kudos: 94





	did we crash too hard? (that's the risk we take)

**Author's Note:**

> at this point are you even surprised to see me again... lol. 
> 
> YES this is my third nik/pate in three days YES i am fighting for them. shut up!
> 
> an anon said "how about a furious patrik defending/protecting nikolaj when someone gets to him?" and that was the same night cédric paquette [slashed nikolaj](https://twitter.com/NHLJetsNation/status/1195833983881248768?s=20) at the end of the second period For No Reason.....
> 
> plus we've BEEN manifesting Patrik Fight. so really it was only a matter of time.
> 
> i don't know or care about paquette so i'm sorry if he's nice but i needed a villain.
> 
> title from "feels like love" by mika

Patrik is on the bench when Paquette takes a swing at Nikolaj with his stick.

Nikolaj goes down, his ankle buckling beneath his weight. Even from the bench, Patrik can see the pain creasing his features, the tension in his body as he tries to get up and fails.

The period is  _ over _ but Nikolaj is down on the ice. Fury burns in the back of Patrik’s throat. 

Nikolaj has to be helped back to the bench, but he manages to limp back to the dressing room on his own. Patrik can’t take his eyes off him during intermission, trying to check if he’s okay. 

A couple of the trainers are with him, getting his skate off and poking at his leg. Nikolaj winces and is given an ice pack, but nothing more dramatic than that. 

Once the trainers leave, Patrik leaves his stall and squeezes into Nikolaj’s, pressing their shoulders together. Nikolaj frowns at him, but Patrik only smiles back serenely.

“You okay?” he asks. He pats Nikolaj’s leg, not that Nikolaj needed a clue about what he was referring to.

Nikolaj shrugs, sighs. “It’s just a bruise,” he says. “I’ll be fine. It’s just —it was unnecessary, that’s all.” He looks down at his bruised ankle, his shoulders hunched. He’s had some shitty luck so far this season, and this only makes it worse. It’s obviously starting to take a toll on him.

“Nik—”

“I’ll be  _ fine,” _ Nikolaj snaps. His face is flushed and the corners of his mouth are tilted down. He’s clearly upset, probably more than a late slash deserves.    


“What did he say?” Patrik asks slowly.

“How did you—He didn’t—” Nikolaj stammers and his eyes flicker off to the side. He’s lying. 

Patrik rests a hand on his knee and squeezes. “Niky,” he says softly. 

Nikolaj ducks his head, the ice pack crinkling in his hand as his fist tightens around it. “I don’t wanna talk about it, Patty,” he says stiffly. “It’s fine. Just—leave it alone.” He doesn’t look at Patrik, doesn’t speak, and Patrik gets up and leaves feeling angry.

He’s not angry at Nikolaj. He’s pissed at whoever it was who said something that upset him so much that he won’t even tell Patrik what it was. 

He’s also still furious about the slash.

Adam nudges him when they’re lined up and waiting to get back on the ice. “Don’t do anything stupid,” he says. He looks at Patrik significantly, then back to where Nikolaj is bouncing on his skates like he’s testing his ankle. 

Patrik scoffs. “Duh,” he says. “That’s your job.” 

Adam smacks his shins with his stick. “Not nice,” he grumbles, then, “anyway, I can tell you’re thinking about it. Don’t. That’s not your job.”

They have to head out onto the ice before Patrik can say something really stupid like  _ protecting Nikolaj is my job.  _ That doesn’t stop him from  _ thinking _ it, though, and the back of his neck warms at the thought. 

Nothing about Nikolaj is his job, because Nikolaj isn’t  _ his. _ No matter how much he wishes it were different. Maybe Adam was right. He is being stupid. 

He tries to make himself relax, loosening his hands where they clench around his stick at the sight of Paquette on the other side of the rink. 

It’s fine. He’s fine. They’re going to keep their lead and finish the night with the two points, and it’ll be  _ fine. _

Patrik has actually convinced himself of that and has mostly stopped thinking about it until he notices Paquette speaking to Nikolaj while they wait for the commercial break to finish. Patrik is at the end of the bench closest to them, so he strains to hear what they’re saying.

“—couldn’t even get anybody to stand up for you, huh?” Paquette says. _ “Calisse, _ your team is really a bunch of pussies. You guys braid each other’s hair in the room after games?”   


Nikolaj rolls his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, ‘cause real men slash guys at the end of the period. You’re so manly.” He shifts a little like he wants to skate away, but he can’t because the ice is still being cleared.

Suddenly, Paquette’s eyes light up. “Hey, I’ve heard some things about you,” he says, and Patrik’s heart stutters in his chest. There’s really only one way this could possibly go and, based on the frightened look in his eyes, Nikolaj knows it too. “You suck your guys off, eh? That’s it, isn’t it. You let them fuck you, I bet, I bet you li—” Paquette snaps his mouth shut at the whistle, bares his teeth at Nikolaj in a mean grin, then he skates away.

Nikolaj stands there for a moment, looking lost. He looks down at the ice for a second, shoulders rising and falling shakily. Patrik wants to jump over the boards and pull him into a hug, but he stays where he is and Nikolaj finally joins the faceoff.

Patrik keeps his eyes on Paquette and scowls. He’s not going to get away with that.

It’s a while before their lines are on the ice at the same time and Nikolaj hadn’t been near enough to Patrik on the bench for Patrik to talk to him. Still, as soon as Patrik has Paquette at the boards, digging for the puck, he jabs at his legs.

“You better not try talking to him again,” Patrik snarls, and Paquette looks confused for maybe half a second.

He laughs. “Why, are you his boyfriend? You gonna defend his honour or some shit?”

Patrik shoves him. He pushes hard, and it was clearly unexpected because Paquette stumbles back into the boards with a shocked expression on his face. It fades quickly.

“What, you wanna go, Laine?” He shakes his wrists a little bit, but he doesn’t look too serious about it. 

Patrik has never fought before, but he doesn’t care about that. He knows how to throw a punch and he knows how to keep his balance.

He drops his gloves.

Paquette barely manages to rid himself of his own gloves before Patrik is on him and then they’re hitting each other.   


The arena explodes with noise before Patrik’s fist even connects with Paquette’s face.

Paquette is older and a more experienced fighter, but Patrik has a significant height advantage and he uses it.

Paquette manages to bloody Patrik’s lip, but then his nose  _ crunches  _ under Patrik’s knuckles. He growls out some furious French curses, but the pain is getting to him and Patrik is able to drive him down to the ice.

Before the officials can pull him off, Patrik musters his most threatening stare and meets Paquette’s eyes. “Don’t even think about saying anything to him. Anything you say, you say to  _ me.” _ He bares his teeth in mockery of Paquette’s earlier jab at Nikolaj, but his teeth are red and bloody and Paquette looks gratifyingly alarmed. 

The refs send him out for the rest of the period—there’s not enough time left for them to be sent to the box, anyway.

Patrik catches Nikolaj staring at him, mouth half-open in shock. Patrik licks the blood off his lips and Nikolaj looks away first.

The trainers make sure his lip doesn’t need stitches and then leave him alone to change while the game finishes up.

Patrik strips out of his gear quickly, shaking a little with adrenaline and leftover anger. He gets in the shower and turns the heat up as high as he can stand it, then scrubs himself down roughly. His skin is bright red when he’s done.

He’s mostly dressed by the time the team gets back and he’s stopped bleeding already. Most of the boys are whooping and laughing when they see him, energy high from the win and from Patrik’s first fight.

“At least you won,” Adam says, slapping him on the back. “That makes stupid shit okay.”   


Patrik laughs, but his heart isn’t really in it. There’s one person who normally would be all over him having his first fight, who’d usually be the first one in line to chirp him about something he did wrong, but Nikolaj is silent. 

It takes a second to find him, but Nikolaj is already heading for the showers with his head down.    


Kyle nudges Patrik’s shoulder. He looks a little worried and he glances towards the showers. “It was for him, wasn’t it. For what Paquette did.” There’s a look in his eyes like he’s not sure if he’s right, not certain that that could be all. 

Patrik nods. “Pretty much,” he says, and then the media is coming in and they both shut up.

Nikolaj sits beside Mark on the bus ride back and stares resolutely at the back of the seat in front of him. Patrik pauses beside him for a second, but Nikolaj doesn’t look up. 

Patrik sits with Kyle and fumes all the way back to the hotel. Kyle keeps shooting him these nervous glances, as if he’s concerned that Patrik might, like, burst into flames or something. 

He catches Patrik’s shoulder before they split up to go to their separate rooms. “Talk to him, would you?” he says. He doesn’t have to say who. 

Patrik sighs, but nods reluctantly. “I know,” he says. “See you later.”

Kyle gives him a lazy salute and wanders off to find his room. 

Patrik goes to his room first, changing out of his suit and brushing his teeth to get the last of the bloody taste out of his mouth.

Then he goes to Nikolaj’s room.

He stands outside the door for too long before he knocks, his knuckles tapping lightly on the wood.

Nikolaj opens the door with a resigned expression. There’s no surprise on his face when he sees Patrik and he just steps aside to let him in. He doesn’t wait for Patrik before going back into the room and sitting on the edge of the bed.

Since there’s nowhere else to sit, Patrik sits beside him.

They’re quiet for a moment. Nikolaj doesn’t even have the TV on.

“I’m sorry,” Patrik says finally.

“I’m not—It’s not you,” Nikolaj says, shaking his head. He tangles his fingers together and twists.    


Patrik wants to reach over and take his hands until he relaxes. He doesn’t move.

“I’m not mad at you for fighting for me,” Nikolaj continues, still looking at the floor, “I’m upset that you had to do it at all. About—about  _ why _ you had to do it.” Nikolaj’s voice wobbles.    


The fact that Nikolaj is into guys was supposed to be a secret. Still, in a league like the NHL rumours travel quick and most of them tend not to be true, but that doesn’t stop people from using them for chirping fodder.

“I couldn’t let him get away with that,” Patrik says. “I wouldn’t. He had to learn—he had to know he can’t say that shit, not to you.”

Nikolaj sucks in a breath beside him. “Patrik,” he says helplessly. “You won’t always be there when this happens. You can’t fight everyone who says that stuff.” 

“I can try,” Patrik says, and there's a fire in his words that surprises even himself.    


It surprises Nikolaj, too, judging by the way he finally turns to look at Patrik. His blue eyes are wide, his cheeks pink and his mouth open in a surprised  _ O.  _ “You don’t,” Nikolaj says, shaky, “you can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Patrik isn’t sure what he’s talking about.    


“You can’t—you can’t be into me.”    


Patrik blinks. It should hurt, probably, and it  _ does, _ but mostly he just feels confused. “Why not?” he asks. Not,  _ How do you know?  _ It’s probably fairly obvious now, so.

“Because I’ve spent three fucking years convinving myself you  _ weren’t _ so I wouldn’t be tempted to get my heart broken! You idiot!” Nikolaj is glaring at him, face flushed and chest heaving. Then what he said seems to catch up with him and he looks away, biting his lip in embarrassment. “Sorry,” he says in a small voice, “I didn’t—”

“Nikolaj,” Patrik says. He reaches out, feeling a little dazed, and turns Nikolaj’s face back towards him. He brushes a thumb over his cheekbone, his lips. “Niky,” he breathes, “I’ve been in love with you since I was nineteen.”

“Oh,” Nikolaj chokes, then he grabs the front of Patrik’s hoodie and pulls him into a messy kiss.

Patrik kisses him back immediately, relief flooding his body at finally getting to experience what he’s been dreaming about for years. He pulls Nikolaj closer and runs gentle fingers through his hair. It stings a little, the pressure on his cut lip, but he doesn’t start bleeding again. Patrik manfully ignores it.

The kiss stays slow and gentle and when they separate, Nikolaj tucks his face into Patrik’s shoulder and breathes slowly. Patrik rubs his back and murmurs soft words of affection into his hair. He speaks in Finnish, unsure if Nikolaj is ready for everything Patrik wants to say. 

“Hey,” Nikolaj mumbles, “I love you, too.”    


Patrik hugs him closer, something warm and comfortable settling into his chest. The shakiness he’s been feeling since the fight finally fades away and Patrik can put all of that behind him. 

Nikolaj sniffles suddenly and Patrik feels something damp on his neck.   


“Niky?” he says, alarmed. He tries to draw back, but Nikolaj doesn’t let him.

“I’m okay,” he says. “I’m just—” He laughs shakily, his voice wet. “I didn’t expect this, and I’m—I’m really happy.” 

_ Oh.  _ Patrik’s heart aches.   


“Patty?” Nikolaj says, finally looking up at him with shiny eyes. His cheeks are blotchy red. “Can you stay with me tonight?” 

Patrik ducks his head to kiss him softly. “Anything you want,” he says.

Nikolaj tips them back onto the mattress so he can curl up beside Patrik and rest his head on Patrik’s chest. “Thank you,” he sighs. He pushes a hand under Patrik’s sweater and rests his cold palm over Patrik’s heart. “I love you.” 

Patrik wraps his arm around Nikolaj’s shoulders and closes his eyes. “I love you,” he whispers back.

Nikolaj fits perfectly under his arm. They’ve finally figured out where they belong, Patrik realizes, and that’s a comforting thought. 

He falls asleep with a smile on his bruised lips.

**Author's Note:**

> gotta have... tender moments! 
> 
> [tumblr](https://symphony7inamajor.tumblr.com)
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/symphony7inAmaj)


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